


A False Awakening

by Evenstar656



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Major Character Injury, Medical Torture, Post-Star Trek: Into Darkness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:07:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27250195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evenstar656/pseuds/Evenstar656
Summary: This was all his fault.  Jim never asked to be saved and he certainly never asked to be tortured so others could find out the secrets of his miracle.
Relationships: James T. Kirk/Leonard "Bones" McCoy
Comments: 25
Kudos: 81





	A False Awakening

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers: Star Trek Into Darkness, General AOS
> 
> Disclaimer: The Star Trek franchise and its characters are property of Paramount. 
> 
> Author’s Notes: This one is pretty dark and please heed the story specific warnings. As always, although I am a doctor I’m not that kind so I happily practice with my fictional degree. 
> 
> Warnings: Graphic descriptions of torture and injury, language, and explicit McKirk.
> 
> I apologize for any mistakes, this was un-beta’d

_Warnings: Graphic descriptions of torture and injury, language, and explicit McKirk._

_###_

“You learned to run from what you feel, and that's why you have nightmares. To deny is to invite madness. To accept is to control.” 

_###_

_“Bridge to Doctor McCoy.”_ A soft voice filtered out of the comm panel.

The man punched the key angrily, “What?” 

_“We’ve found the location of the black site.”_

“On my way,” he zipped up the black flak jacket and holstered his phaser. 

A well-armed security team in black stood ready on the pad by the time he reached the transporter room. 

“Ready, Doctor?” Spock entered behind him. 

“Yes,” McCoy said without a usual metaphor. 

McCoy and Spock attached their comms to their tactical jackets and took a spot on the pad.

“We’re going in weapons hot,” Security Chief Giotto shouldered his own phaser rifle and flicked it over to ‘kill’ 

The rest of the team drew and powered up their phasers. McCoy was the last to draw his own weapon and set it ‘kill’. A secret Section 31 facility stood between him and Jim and he wouldn’t hesitate to kill every last person in there. 

“Two minutes to transport,” Scotty called out quietly from the control room. 

McCoy drew in a steadying breath and willed his rage to settle. He glanced to his side to see the Vulcan equally tense. 

Jim had been abducted from under their noses at a diplomatic reception five days ago. They had become careless while enjoying a rare opportunity to revel in their success after a difficult treaty was finalized. McCoy had seen Jim follow an officer from the Diplomatic Corps onto a terrace but lost track of him when he was summoned to chat with a group of delegates. They didn’t realize he’d been abducted until several hours after the fact when the party dwindled and they couldn’t locate their captain. 

“One minute.” 

The days that followed were frenzied with the hunt consuming the entire ship’s efforts. It was a miracle Uhura got a whiff of Jim’s location from Starfleet’s own communications chatter. The supposedly defunct Section 31 had taken him. The ship immediately raced to the corner of the Alpha quadrant to some backwater planet he’d never heard of that held the suspected location of their still functional black site. 

“Ten seconds.” 

McCoy gripped his phaser tightly as the panels underneath him hummed. Scotty gave a solemn nod to the team and a swirl of bright lights engulfed them. 

The black site was anything but black. The interior was as crisp and white as any hospital he’d ever been in. He looked down at his black clothing and realized how much they stood out in the hallway they’d been beamed into. Chekov had written the code for the transport signal buffering but this was as close as he could get them to the heart of the heavily shielded building. 

The security team immediately surrounded their first officer and CMO. The group advanced down the long pristine corridor. There was only one door at the end with an old fashioned handle. A well-placed kick from Giotto had it swinging open in seconds. 

“Where is everyone?” McCoy’s palm holding the grip of the phaser was sweaty.

“Stun the first person we come upon,” Spock switched his weapon to the less lethal option.

McCoy did not do the same. The rage he felt nearly blinded him. He expected cruelty from aliens, but not humans from his own organization. All he wanted was Jim safe and sound on the ship.

A red bolt of phaser fire nearly singed the hair from his nape. Someone shoved him behind them and fired off a volley of shots. 

“Got ‘em,” a crewman called and he was allowed to rise up. 

Spock raced to where the Section 31 agent fell and bent down to feel for a pulse, “He’s still alive.” 

The Vulcan placed three fingers in a familiar pattern on the dying man’s face. The group held their breath until Spock stood up.

“I have the location of the captain,” he tore off down a corridor on their left. 

The group struggled to keep up with the faster officer. They were forced to skid to a halt and seek cover in an alcove from a barrage of red phaser fire. McCoy was shoved to the rear of the group as they returned fire. His back was forced into a doorknob and he whipped around to scowl at the windowless door. 

The man couldn’t help himself and twisted the knob. It was unlocked and the door swung open. He raised his phaser like he’d been taught at the academy and advanced slowly into the room. It was some kind of medical scrub room by the looks of it. There was a row of sterilizers underneath a polarized window. 

“What the fuck?” he neared a door to the side that appeared to swing open if pushed. 

He tightened the grip on his phaser and put a careful hand on the cool metal of the door. McCoy opened the door a hair, just enough to hear the sound of people inside the room. 

“Doctor?” whispered Spock who was suddenly beside him.

McCoy nearly yelped in surprise, “Jesus Christ, Spock.” 

Spock’s more sensitive ears could easily detect the activity behind the door. 

“I should enter first,” Spock said to a swinging door because McCoy had already pushed the door wide open. 

McCoy barely registered the scene in front of him before he started firing at the people surrounding the operating table. The medical staff was surprisingly armed and returned fire after they figured out what was happening. Spock entered the room in time to add two more bodies to the floor.

“Stop right there, Doctor McCoy,” a man in a surgical gown and cap aimed his phaser at the blonde head on the table. “I will kill him.”

McCoy’s blood boiled and he brought up his second hand to steady the one gripping his weapon. It didn’t even register that the man had known who he was. 

“Step away from him.” 

“I cannot do that, Doctor.” 

“What are you doing to him?” McCoy’s eyes briefly scanned the operating room. 

“Do you really think I will carelessly divulge our objectives?”

McCoy could only think of one reason why Section 31 would want Jim, and it was all _his_ fault. He had been afraid of this moment since that day he transfused Khan’s plasma into his dead captain.

“Section 31 was supposed to have been disbanded,” Spock kept aim on the doctor who held his unconscious captain at phaser point. 

“For all intents and purposes we were, Commander.”

“Then why do you need Captain Kirk?” 

McCoy was surprised the Vulcan did not connect the dots. 

“You, Doctor McCoy, must already know,” the man sneered. 

McCoy moved closer and the phaser was pushed to Jim’s temple.

“While he is more useful alive, Doctor. I can still gather the information I seek from his corpse.” 

McCoy halted, only a few steps away from Jim. 

“Does Starfleet Command know of this?” 

“We are given a certain amount of latitude…” 

McCoy had enough and readied his trigger finger. 

“Commander?” Giotto appeared in the doorway behind them. 

McCoy watched the doctor’s eyes flick to the distraction. That split second moment was enough for McCoy’s finger to tighten against the trigger. A bolt of fire went wide past Spock and the Section 31 doctor was on the floor with a burning hole in the middle of his chest. 

“Damn, that’s a good shot!” Giotto whooped. 

McCoy only processed that the threat was down and he was at Jim’s side in a heartbeat. He holstered his phaser and ran both of his hands through Jim’s unkempt hair. The biomonitor screen painted a bleak picture of Jim’s condition. 

“Jesus, kid,” he peeled open an eyelid to see the smallest ring of blue around the pupil. 

The pulse under his two fingers was weak and thready, and his breathing was slow and shallow despite what he hoped was oxygen flowing through the mask over his mouth and nose. He quickly unsealed the mask and tossed it to the floor at the thought of the oxygen being laced with something. There was no telling what they had done. McCoy’s trained eyes scanned the rest of his body. Jim’s skin nearly blended in with the white gown with the two bright overhead lights focused on his form. He undid the straps that secured Jim’s arms to arm supports that were pulled out away from his body and pulled out the IV that was dripping heaven knows what into his veins. The insides of both of his arms were marred with old needle punctures. He hastily wrapped the bleeding site with gauze he snagged from a nearby tray. There were two more straps, across his chest and hips, that were tossed off with disgust. McCoy couldn’t tell what they had done already, but he could guess what they were about to do given the tray of biopsy equipment that was nearby. 

“I’m so sorry, Jim,” he undid the straps that held Jim’s ankles to the table. 

“Doctor?” Spock starred in only what he could describe as pure hatred at Jim’s splayed out form. 

“Can you find some blankets?” McCoy gently pulled Jim’s outstretched arms to his side. 

“How long until we can get out of here?” Spock asked the security chief.

McCoy didn’t hear the answer, but someone handed him a stack of blankets and he unfolded each one over Jim’s inert form. Curiosity finally got the better of him and he pulled the side of the blanket up and lifted the hem of the gown. 

The doctor surveyed the multitude of bruises and unhealed incisions all over Jim’s body with unbridled fury. His fingers traced a small abdominal incision that had been closed by manual sutures. The hip closest to him was just a mass of black and blue. 

_Fucking barbarians._

“Goddamn torture.”

“Doctor McCoy?” 

McCoy nodded and held the blankets open for Spock to see for himself. 

“Command will hear about this,” Spock said tersely. “What do you suspect they were doing?” 

“Medical tests. Biopsies from the looks of it.”

His eyes traveled further and found Jim’s groin had been shaved. There was an angry red incision amid the bruising at the inside juncture of his hip. McCoy surmised they had used it to access the femoral artery to get to any of the major routes in his circulatory system. They could have traveled all the way to his heart from there. There was also evidence they had been taking samples from his testicles. 

“God, Jim,” he swallowed hard and covered him back up.

This was all his fault. Jim never asked to be saved and he certainly never asked to be tortured so others could find out the secrets of his miracle. Starfleet had been angry he did it in the first place and had promised him they were going to leave Jim alone. 

McCoy was shaken from his thoughts when the captain's breathing hitched. 

“Jim?” McCoy dropped the blankets and took hold of the sides of Jim’s face. 

There was a faint motion as if to escape from his touch. He was waking up since whatever they were dosing him with in that IV was gone.

“I’m here, darlin’,” McCoy’s voice was thick with emotion. 

Jim’s lips moved but no words came through them. 

“I’ve got you, Jim,” McCoy stroked Jim’s gaunt cheek with his thumb.

“James Tiber...Kirk, Capn’, _‘Prize_. 93...B...8...00–“ 

“Jim, it’s me. We’re takin’ you home.” 

“ _‘Prize_. 93...B...8...00–“ 

McCoy struggled to listen to Jim repeating his name, rank, and serial number. “We’re goin’ home, kid.” 

“Prize?” Jim’s voice was barely a whisper. 

“Yeah, Jim. We’re going back to the _Enterprise_.” 

Jim’s eyes cracked open to a sliver, “‘nes.” 

“Right here.” 

“Bo…”

McCoy wanted to unload the ship’s entire arsenal on this hell hole, “I’m here, Jim.” 

“Home.” 

“I know. We’re waiting for our ride.” 

“Thirty one—“ 

“Already taken care of, kid.” 

“—nes,” Jim made a feeble attempt to shake the hands loose. 

“Jim,” McCoy said louder. 

Jim looked like he was fading out so McCoy pinched an ear lobe. The captain jerked away but it had its intended effect and more blue could be seen from under his pale lids.

“I need you to stay with me.”

“Tired,” Jim huffed. 

“I know, but you need to stay awake,” McCoy patted Jim’s cheek for good measure. 

“D’nt feel good.” 

McCoy saw Jim’s long body start to quake under the blankets. 

“I’ll fix that when we get home.” 

The shaking increased and McCoy tried to tuck the blankets in better. 

“B’nes,” Jim’s eyes watered. 

“Jesus, kid,” McCoy’s stomach did somersaults in anguish. 

The doctor didn’t even have his med kit with him and he didn’t trust anything in this place. There was nothing he could do for Jim at the moment other than to keep talking to him. He tried to soothe the man but it was obvious his words did little. 

Giotto returned and even his battle-hardened stomach quivered at the sight of McCoy bent over his captain’s trembling body, “They beamed us down a litter to take him back.” 

“Time to go home, kid,” McCoy rubbed a hand through Jim’s grimy locks. 

“How do you want us?” Giotto asked with a few of the security team flanked behind him.

“We’ll roll him to his side and get that under him,” McCoy directed the crew to stand on either side of the table. 

The CMO directed the team to shift Jim onto his side on the narrow table. The people facing their captain’s back tried to look away when the blankets and gown shifted away to expose their captain’s tortured back. 

“Uh, Doctor,” Giotto called softly. 

“Huh?” McCoy looked up from where he held Jim’s head. 

Giotto motioned to Jim’s back and someone traded places with the doctor. McCoy had to put his hand on the table to steady himself. Jim’s lower spine was peppered with tiny healed punctures amid the florid bruising. There were even more small incisions over the back of each of his hips. Those bastards had been taking multiple samples of spinal fluid and bone marrow. 

“Are they all dead?” McCoy ground out. 

“Yes,” Spock walked over to view the damage to his captain. 

“We need to find all of their data and destroy it.”

Spock nodded and flipped open his comm, calling for Chekov to beam down. McCoy waved for the litter to be placed under Jim and they lowered him gently to its surface. Two men picked up each end of the litter and hefted their captain off the operating table.

“Bones,” Jim rasped. 

“Right here,” McCoy placed his hand on Jim’s shoulder as they carried him out of that vile place. 

### 

“How do we get him out of this?” Jim looked down at McCoy who’s head lay ensconced in a device that held a multitude of sensors to his scalp. 

“I do not know,” Spock bent down to inspect the connections. 

“Can we just take it off?” 

“I do not think that wise, Captain. There are at least two filaments entering each temple.” 

Jim crouched down next to Spock to see two nearly invisible needles piercing the doctor’s temples.

“Well, whatever we do we need to figure it out fast,” Jim made sure his phaser was set to its lethal setting. 

### 

McCoy sat at Jim’s darkened bedside with his elbows on his knees and his head cradled between hands that tried to rub the tension from his temples. It had taken hours to get a start on undoing the cruelty that had been afflicted. He could only heal so many of the lacerations and bruises on his first round as to not stress Jim’s body any more. There were more pressing injuries to take care of, such as his hips that lay immobilized under the healing beams of osteogenic stimulators. The bones were like Swiss cheese from all of the marrow extractions. 

There was enough internal evidence to indicate his suspicions had been correct and many samples of all of his organs except his brain had been taken. Even in this century it was risky and as sobering a thought as it was, they were likely waiting to excise the entire brain in an autopsy. Jim’s blood chemistry was a huge clusterfuck that was being sluggish to correct even with the multiple IV bags hanging on the stand next to his biobed. He’d needed several units of blood products as a result of the blood and marrow sampling. They had drained him until he was nearly empty and his depleted marrow was unable to replenish the loss. 

McCoy looked at Jim and struggled not to completely break down. Jim had been hurt plenty before and on multiple occasions, but this time it was to wring out _his_ secrets from Jim’s body. 

“Boss?” 

A steaming cup of coffee was held under his nose. 

“Thanks,” he took it and sat it on the rolling table. 

Chapel said nothing when she saw that it joined the two other still full cups she had brought him earlier. 

“Are we still in orbit?” 

“Yes, they’re making sure they sweep up all the data. Admiral Liu from JAG is on her way.”

McCoy nodded, keeping his eyes on Jim’s chest as it rose and fell. The breathing stuttered just a bit and McCoy was instantly out of his chair. 

“Jim?” McCoy had to lean over, as Jim was flat on his back with a thin pillow. 

Chapel moved to the other side of the biobed in case she was needed. 

“Jim, I’m here.” 

Jim’s head moved slightly to McCoy’s direction. The biomonitor pinged an alert as Jim’s heart rate spiked. 

“C’mon, kid,” McCoy placed a comforting hand on the side of Jim’s face. 

McCoy tried not to take it personal when the captain jerked away from his touch. The monitor pinged again. McCoy glanced up at the screen but quickly brought his gaze back as Jim’s eyes fluttered. He moved his hand to Jim’s brow when it wrinkled. A shrill alarm wailed milliseconds before Jim’s eyes snapped opened and his back arched. The immobilization field over his hips easily kept him pinned to the biobed’s surface.

“What the hell?” the frantic motion stunned the doctor.

The alarm continued to blare as Jim writhed within the bounds of the immobilization field. 

“Turn that damn thing off. Jim, I’m right here. You need to calm down,” McCoy tried to soothe. 

Chapel silenced the noise and turned to the drug cabinet. 

“Hang on,” McCoy wasn’t ready to drug Jim just yet. “Jim!” 

The captain’s glassy blue eyes bounced around the room and at all of the medical equipment around him. 

“I’m right here, darlin’. It’s me,” McCoy grabbed Jim’s hand that was clenched tight. 

“Bo—“ Jim bucked against McCoy’s hand on his forehead. 

“That’s right, it’s me.” 

Jim continued to struggle. 

“Leonard, I think it’s your hand,” Chapel pointed the hand still on Jim’s head. 

“What?” McCoy didn’t understand.

“Take your hand off of him.” 

McCoy pulled his hand away as if burned; Jim immediately stopped thrashing. The doctor wanted to vomit and then slap himself. The Section 31 butchers must’ve tried to restrain him that way.

“God, Jim,” McCoy set his hand down on Jim’s bare shoulder. 

He waited for him to flinch at the touch, but that appeared to be a safe spot.

“Captain?” Chapel called out loudly. 

Jim’s head rolled to her voice. 

“Jim, you’re home.”

They weren’t sure he understood. 

“Jim, do you understand?” she asked calmly. 

“ _Prize_?” he whispered.

“Yeah, Jim. You’re on the _Enterprise,_ ” McCoy’s heart lurched in his chest. 

“You’re safe, Jim,” Chapel soothed. 

“Thirty one—“

“Already taken care of, kid,” McCoy echoed from when they pulled him from the black site. “Can you give him half a mig of lorazepam IVP?”

Chapel nodded and turned to draw up the drug. 

“You with me, kid?” McCoy kept his voice calm and steady. 

Jim nodded.

“Good, we got you out of that hell hole.”

The numbers on the biomonitor finally started to blink in yellows and greens.

“Good, Jim. I know it’s hard but you need to keep still. Your hips are in really bad shape. I’m healing them as fast as I can.”

Jim looked down at his body to see a plastic frame over his hips. He caught sight of Chapel off to his side taking hold of an IV line. The monitor resumed its shrill tone and Jim yanked his arm away from the nurse.

“Jim?” McCoy didn’t understand the new sense of panic. 

Chapel stopped what she was doing and held up her empty hands, “Sorry, Captain. I stopped.” 

McCoy wanted to berate himself again. They’d kept him drugged and restrained in that facility. They needed to be careful with him. Jim had been broken. 

“Hey, kid, look at me,” McCoy softened his voice.

The doctor had to repeat his command a few times before Jim’s head rolled on the thin pillow. 

“That’s it. You need to calm down. Its just Christine, okay?”

Jim nodded; still wary of the nurse. 

“Jim, did they drug you?”

The captain swallowed hard and nodded. McCoy had to blink away water that welled up in his eyes. They used his science of healing as a method to subdue him. 

“Okay, Jim. Your pressure is worryin’ me a bit, can she give you something for that?” McCoy pointed to an orange number on the display screen. “It might make you drowsy but it shouldn’t put you out.” 

A tension McCoy hadn’t noticed melted when Jim nodded. Chapel quickly screwed the syringe into a port and injected the medication. The effects were almost instantaneous. 

“Better?” McCoy watched Jim relax into the mattress.

“S’ry.”

“Hey, it’s okay. Now does anything hurt?” 

“My hips,” Jim shifted uncomfortably.

“Yeah, we’re working on that. Is it sharp or dull?” 

“Dull.” 

“Okay, can we give you something for that?” it was going to take effort to remember to be slow and deliberate about everything. 

Jim quickly shook his head; he’d rather be in pain than risk being drugged. 

McCoy sighed, “That’s okay for the moment but if it gets worse will you tell me?” 

“Yes?” 

“Jim, you’re safe here. We got you out. You understand that?” 

The captain nodded and his eyes welled up. If McCoy’s heart could shatter any more it would. 

“Jim, I’m so sorry they did this to you.” 

###

“What is this doing to him?” Jim was eye level with the device wrapped around McCoy’s head. 

“I’m unsure of the specifics but Doctor McCoy is projecting high levels of anger and sadness.” 

“He’s dreaming?” 

“I believe so, Captain.” 

“Can we just beam the whole contraption with us?” 

### 

“Doctor McCoy, I have the data and samples recovered from the station,” Spock stood with a large tote in his hands. 

The doctor sighed and looked up from an army of dermal regenerators he was placing on the back of Jim’s hips. 

“Be right there,” he called quietly as he double- checked to make sure Jim was positioned correctly on his stomach. 

“I apologize, I did not mean to intrude,” Spock glanced at the bruising on his captain’s lower back before McCoy covered him up with the blanket. 

“It’s fine, whatcha got?” the doctor left Jim’s bedside with a sorrowful look. 

McCoy followed Spock to sickbay’s small research lab. 

Spock set the container on a counter and flipped the lid from the tote, “These are the samples that were confirmed to have been taken from Jim.” 

The box contained stacks of full test tube racks and a row of collection bags off to the side.

“All of these?” McCoy snapped on a glove and pulled a vial up to read. 

The handwritten label contained a number, stardate, and what kind of sample it held. It was hard not to hurl the tube in his hand at the wall, they hadn’t even dignified it with his name. Jim was just some experiment number to those bastards.

 _K29720, 2263.124, Pancreas_

“Mr. Chekov found their index,” Spock answered McCoy’s brewing question. 

McCoy replaced the vial and pulled up another one. 

_K29720, 2263.123, Rt-T_

“What does ‘Rt-T’ denote?” Spock read over his shoulder. 

The doctor sighed and replaced the vial, “My guess is ‘right testicle’.” 

Spock’s voice tightened, “Genetic engineering is illegal in the Federation.” 

“You were there, Spock. I don’t think they were too concerned about laws. We have to destroy all of this,” McCoy pawed through the tube racks and bags of urine, marrow, blood, and plasma. 

“Starfleet can be charged with war crimes if they were attempting to recreate augments. We have to preserve the evidence.” 

McCoy replaced the lid and pulled off the glove, “Spock, I won’t let Jim be dragged any further into this shit storm.” 

“Justice must be brought to those who assaulted him.”

“Don’t forget to add me to that list then,” McCoy had to walk away from the box of horrors. 

“Doctor?” Spock followed the man to Jim’s doorway. 

“You know you heard me correctly with those ears.” 

“I fail to see why you think you are responsible for his assault.” 

“I started all this shit when I gave him Khan’s plasma to save him.” 

“Have you not proven on multiple occasions that there were no lasting effects from that procedure?” 

“Yeah, but no one else knows the specifics. Starfleet supposedly sealed everything. They wouldn’t know that it never really changed anything genetically. I haven’t detected anything leftover from that in years, and believe me I check his marrow myself every year.” 

“The question remains, why not go to the source itself?” 

“Do you know where Khan and the rest of this augments were put?” 

“I do not.”

“It’s not like Jim’s ever hard to find,” McCoy waved a hand at Jim's inert form for emphasis. 

All of this was giving McCoy a headache and he rubbed his temples to try and release the tension. 

“Have you seen to your own needs?” 

McCoy sighed and continued to rub his head, “I’m just tired, Spock. This is a lot for a human to handle.” 

The doctor left Spock outside in the corridor before he could reply. He resumed his seat at Jim’s side. Someone had left a sandwich on the table for him but he pushed it away. 

McCoy looked up to the bed and saw two bleary blue eyes focused on him. 

“Jim?” 

The hand angled next to Jim’s face twitched but McCoy was hesitant to take it.

“It’s me, kid.” 

“Bo—“ Jim’s voice was weak. 

McCoy spun around and grabbed a cup from the table, “Water?” 

There was a faint nod. 

“Take it slow, I can’t flip you over just yet,” McCoy positioned the straw at Jim’s cracked lips. 

Jim took a few sips and pulled back enough to signal he was done. 

“Thanks,” Jim sighed. 

“How do you feel?” 

“‘m cold.” 

McCoy took special care in unfolding another blanket over Jim and tucking him in tightly, “Anything hurting?” 

“Everything.” 

“Can I give you something for it?” McCoy remembered to ask first.

Jim debated and shook his head. 

“Jim, you don’t have to be in pain. I can just take the edge off.” 

“Sure,” Jim huffed. 

McCoy wasn’t convinced he really wanted it but he couldn’t let Jim hurt. He quickly injected the pain medication into an IV port. Jim relaxed but not all the way.

“Better?” McCoy tossed the syringe down the bio trash chute. 

“I’m sorry, Bones.” 

“Hey, it’s all right,” McCoy wiped away a loose tear. 

“I want to go back to my quarters,” Jim said after a few moments. 

“I know you do, darlin’. Give me a couple of days and I’ll let you out of here.” 

“Now,” Jim said rather forcibly. 

McCoy finally took Jim’s hand, “Jim, I promise I’m not keeping you here longer than necessary, but I need to get your hips and blood work in better shape first.” 

“Bones…” 

“I’m sorry, Jim.” 

“Then let me go back to my quarters. It reminds me of…”

McCoy looked at the broken man laid out before him and crouched down so he was eye level, “Darlin’, I know. I’m not doing this to hurt you. You understand that?”

Jim hesitated, “I know.” 

McCoy stroked the top of Jim’s pliant hand with his thumb, “Just rest. It’s the best thing for you right now.” 

“Don’t leave me.” 

The doctor’s chest hitched and he had to blink away the water, “Of course not, Jim. I’ll stay right here with you.” 

### 

“Uh guys, I think he’s crying,” Jim stood guard over the biobed McCoy was laid out on. 

“Hmm?” M’Benga turned around from the large display screen. 

Jim pointed to McCoy’s face. A line of tears raced from the corners of his closed eyes.

“Is this thing hurting him?” 

“Not physically from what we can determine, Captain.” 

Jim crossed his arms and watched each tear fall in succession. 

###

“Bones,” Jim’s voice was sharp with irritation. 

“I know, almost done,” McCoy dabbed at the weeping incision over Jim’s femoral artery in his groin. “Damn thing got infected. I can’t seal it yet. How the fuck…in a sterile...” 

Jim tried hard to focus on the panel above the biobed. The Section 31 doctors didn’t put him all the way out when they’d accessed the artery and whatever else they’d done from there. He remembered that they’d drugged him but he was only drowsy, and then they’d strapped his legs down. The only thing he had to look at while they cut into him was the ceiling. There had been voices from the figures in surgical gowns but they were stern and direct, and never to him. They’d given him something at the end that knocked him the rest of the way out. He remembered waking up strapped down in a different room with a tube up his dick and balls that ached.

An alert pinged from the screen above Jim’s head and McCoy glanced down at Jim’s face, which had gone white as the sheets. 

“Jim?” McCoy barked. 

There was no evidence that Jim heard him. He couldn’t drop what he was doing so he yelled for a nurse. 

“Here, Boss,” Chapel entered quickly. 

McCoy tilted his head towards the screen. She put on a pair of gloves and took the surgeon’s spot.

“Jim?” McCoy leaned over Jim so he was directly over him.

The captain was wide-eyed and unblinking at the ceiling. McCoy snapped his fingers a few times over Jim’s face.

“Flashback?” Chapel continued to clean the infected wound. 

“I think so. It doesn’t look like a petit mal,” McCoy peeled off a glove and put his warm hand against the side of Jim’s face. 

After a few tense moments Jim let out a shuddering breath and blinked back to awareness.

“Hey, kid. I’m right here,” McCoy tried to project a sense of calm. 

Jim’s eyes tracked to meet McCoy’s. 

“You’re safe, Jim.” 

McCoy glanced at the biomonitor.

“I’m sorry,” Jim flushed red. 

“There’s nothing to be sorry for. Christine is almost done, right?” 

“Just a few more seconds, Captain,” she pressed an antimicrobial film bandage over the angry looking site. “See, all done.”

Jim eyed the bandage and flexed his foot. 

“Is it bothering you?” McCoy watched the limb shift.

“No.” 

Chapel pulled the gown and blankets back over Jim’s exposed leg. McCoy nodded at her and she left with the biotrash. 

“Talk to me, kid,” the doctor raised the head of the biobed a few degrees and slumped into the bedside chair.

Jim’s fist clenched around the blanket. 

“Was that your first flashback?” McCoy waited for the fingers to loosen over the fabric. 

Jim remained silent.”

“What they did was cruel and vile.” 

“I kept waiting...waiting for you guys to bust through the door every time they drugged me.” 

McCoy swallowed the lump in his throat, “I know. It took us forever to find where they took you.”

Jim turned his head away from the doctor, “I tried to stay strong but everything they did hurt and they kept drugging me. I kept pulling the IVs out so they kept my wrists tied down. They kept my legs tied down after whatever the fuck they did to my groin.” 

McCoy knew it had been about keeping Jim from bleeding to death as much as it was to keep him subdued. 

“It, uh, looks like they used the femoral vein to reach your heart. I think they were taking samples of cardiac and arterial tissue that way. Honestly it’s barbaric, and we haven’t needed to do it that way in a century. Jim, if you have any questions about what they did…” 

The room fell silent.

“I want to know why, Bones. Why did they do all that to me?” Jim’s eyes watered.

A tremor developed in the surgeon’s usually steady hands, “It seems they were trying to piece together how you survived after Khan...” 

“That’s why they kept drilling into my hips?” 

McCoy was unusually unsteady, “Yes, Jim.” 

Jim’s eyes dried up and flashed with anger, “I thought nothing ever changed...in me?” 

“As many times as I’ve checked, it didn’t. I swear, Jim. My only guess is they didn’t know because everything was redacted in the inquiry. They probably couldn’t get to the Augments themselves so they tried the next best option...you.” 

“Bones...they tested _everything_.”

“I know,” McCoy dropped his eyes. “I saw what they did to you and I’ve seen the tissue samples. A team retrieved all of the samples and data discs they could confirm were from you.” 

“They still exist?” 

McCoy took a breath, “We’ve been ordered to retain them as evidence. Admiral Liu is on her way here.” 

The vitals monitor pinged a warning. McCoy felt lower than low. Jim had undergone unimaginable abuses at the hands of people from his own organization, and now he was going to be embroiled in a drawn out shit storm. He was going to have to continuously relieve the trauma.

 _“You get that sonuvabitch back on board right now! I think he can save Kirk.”_

_McCoy slammed his hand down on the console, cutting off communication with the bridge. He didn’t have the time to worry about catching Khan and keeping Jim alive…Jim, his best friend Jim, alive. McCoy stopped himself, he was a doctor and he knew better. Jim was clinically dead. There was no cardiac output, his respiratory system had collapsed, and any brain activity had long since stopped. Jim was dead._

_“Cryogenic sequence is complete,” Dr. Carol Marcus announced softly._

_“Tell me this will work,” McCoy looked up from the console, desperate to save Jim._

McCoy remembered that moment vividly. His emotional pendulum had swung from crushing defeat to a fierce determination. He never could have imagined that the decision he made that microsecond would land the both of them here. McCoy wondered where they would be if he took the second option which left Jim dead. They certainly wouldn’t be parked orbiting a defunct Section 31 black site and Jim wouldn’t be trying to reconcile why he’d been subjected to such invasive hurts.

“I’m sorry, Jim,” 

Jim turned his head away from the doctor. McCoy huffed and pushed to his feet. A sharp pain blossomed behind his eyes and he grunted. He guessed it was his body protesting the lack of food and sleep. McCoy managed to take a step before an overwhelming wave of vertigo sent him crashing face first into the deck. 

### 

“He’s seizing!” a surgical gowned figure shouted as the body on the table contracted.

Jim had a white-knuckle grip on the edge of the depolarized OR window. 

“Captain?” 

“Not now, Spock,” Jim couldn’t take his eyes off M’Benga’ and the nurses as they fought to save their boss. 

“The removal is not proceeding as expected?” 

“Does that look okay to you?” Jim snapped. 

Spock remained silent but joined his captain at the window. 

“C’mon, Bones,” he muttered. 

###

McCoy’s first thought waking was that someone had driven a spike into his head. He opened his eyes to find himself on the sofa in his darkened office. A tug at the inside of his arm kept his hand from reaching his aching temples. 

“Nurse Chapel said you were dehydrated,” a voice came from his desk. 

“Shit, lights.” 

He immediately regretted the decision as the photons struck his retinas. The lights were called down to a more tolerable level.

“Why in the hell are you watching me sleep, Spock?” McCoy pushed himself to a seated position. 

“You collapsed in Jim’s room.” 

“And?” McCoy rubbed his tired eyes. 

“Your well-being is a concern.” 

“Hey, sorry I’m late,” Jim, looking healthy and in his uniform, bound into the office.

McCoy did a double take, “Jim? Why are you out of bed and why are you in uniform?”

Spock and Jim shared a look. Jim took a seat next to the doctor.

“Listen, Bones. This is gonna sound weird but you have to trust me.”

McCoy grabbed the hem of Jim’s shirts and hiked them up. There wasn’t a single bruise or healing wound to be found. Now he was scared _and_ confused. 

“Calm down, Leonard,” Spock rose from behind the desk and lowered himself to his knees in front of McCoy.

“Someone better tell me what the fuck is going on. Now,” McCoy ground out. 

“We will, Bones. Just take a second and calm down. You’ll kick us out if you get too worked up.” 

“Kick you out?” McCoy could feel his racing pulse kick it up another notch.

“Bones, please,” Jim’s hand felt warm and solid on his arm. 

“Jim, what’s going on?” 

“You were abducted from a diplomatic reception a week ago…”

“What? Jim, you were—“ 

Jim held up a hand, “Just hear me out.”

McCoy nodded. 

Jim squeezed the arm under his hand, “We found you, and we’ve brought you back to the ship. There was some kind of device around your head.”

_Am I brain damaged?_

“Your brain is intact,” Spock answered. 

_I didn’t ask that out loud!_

“No you didn’t, Bones.” 

McCoy looked at Jim’s eyes for reassurance he hadn’t gone mad and they answered questions he didn’t ask aloud.

“There were...complications when M’Benga tried to remove the device from your head. It had a few pieces that went into the brain itself.” 

“Are you sure I’m not brain damaged?”

“No, not that wasn’t already there before,” Jim’s lips turned up in a quick smile. 

McCoy wasn’t amused.

“You had a series of seizures and they’ve been unable to wake you.” 

“So I’m dreaming?” 

“Not exactly, Leonard,” Spock held up his hand in a gesture the doctor knew too well. 

“You green blooded hobgoblin! Are you melding with me?” 

“Actually we both are,” Jim answered before McCoy’s tempter short circuited and broke their tenuous connection. 

“Jesus H Christ,” McCoy ran a hand through his disheveled hair. 

“See, I told you he’d take it like this,” Jim rolled his eyes. 

“How do I even know this is real?” 

Jim stood up and held out his palm, “Trust me, please.” 

McCoy eyed the two men suspiciously. If something had messed with his brain like they said then there was no way to trust what his mind was telling him. 

“I know it’s a lot, but we’re trying to help you,” Jim kept his hand outstretched. 

Those blue eyes were confident and knowing. McCoy pulled the IV from his arm. 

“C’mon, Bones.” 

McCoy took the offered hand and Jim pulled him to his feet. Spock followed the pair out of his office and through a deserted sickbay. Jim led them to the small ICU room. 

“Do you trust me now?” Jim pointed to the figure on the biobed. 

McCoy couldn’t believe his eyes. Jim’s broken form was on the biobed where he left him but Jim was also right next to him, with a solid and warm hand around his bicep. The confusion was enough to make him sick to his stomach. He had no idea which reality was the one he needed to be in. 

“Try to remain calm, Doctor.” 

“We think the device was used to keep its occupant in a state of fear. I’m not sure the specifics but it could lock onto a fear and amplify it as a means to subdue the person.” 

The doctor’s already muddled brain struggled to process this information. 

“So you’re saying?” 

Spock took McCoy’s other side, “This device appears to have adhered itself to your fear of consequences from having saved Jim.” 

“You’ve seen all of this? All of this crap that I’ve had to go through?” 

“Not all, but a significant amount to form the hypothesis.” 

“So Jim is…?” 

“I’m here, Bones. Waiting for you to come back to us.” 

_None of this is real._

The body on the biobed began to convulse and the biomonitor alarm screeched for its patient in distress. The doctor was poised to step into the room and run the code but something kept his feet firmly planted to the deck. 

“And if you’re telling the truth how do I get back?” 

Jim turned the man so that his hazel eyes had no choice but to look into his bright blue ones, “You just have to let go of the fear.”

“What kind of poetic bullshit is that?” 

The wailing alarm changed tone as it detected further decline of Jim’s suddenly still body. The doctor moved to rush in again but Jim’s hand held firm against his arm. 

“Let it go, Bones.” 

McCoy was torn, “And if you’re wrong?” 

Jim pleaded, “Please?” 

The alarm changed to its final alert tone as it failed to detect life signs from its sensors. McCoy had to fight his very nature to keep his feet outside the threshold. Even if it wasn’t really Jim in arrest it still looked like him, and it gnawed furiously at his gut. He hoped to every deity in the universe that he was making the right choice. 

Minutes passed and it was beyond the point of successfully reviving the body even if he changed his mind. A pressure had begun to build up in his head and when Spock moved to silence the shrill tone it became unbearable. He bent over and heaved onto the deck. 

“Bones!” a firm hand was at his back. 

“I don’t feel good,” McCoy dropped to his knees in agony. 

“Spock, what do we do?” Jim’s voice was panicked. 

McCoy tried to focus but his vision was fading. He was sure he’d made the wrong choice right before everything went black. 

###

“He’s vomiting! Get him to his side!” 

McCoy wasn’t aware of much beyond the loud noises and the vertigo from being shoved to his side quickly. 

“Leonard?” a familiar voice he couldn’t place yelled. 

His reply was lost in another rebellious spasm from his stomach. 

“Shit, he got my boots.” 

He knew _that_ voice, but it was such a struggle to open his eyes. 

“Hey, I think he’s coming to,” the owner of the voice squeezed his arm. “Bones?”

That was definitely Jim. 

“C’mon, Bones. Chapel’s been drawing up plans to turn your office into a nurse’s lounge.” 

McCoy’s throat was on fire and his head pounded. He tried to form words but he was sure they came out garbled. Someone dragged a damp cloth gently across his mouth and chin. 

“I know you’re in there, Bones.”

He sucked in a deep breath trying to draw the energy needed to open his eyes. The lights were impossibly bright when he managed to lift his lashes enough to let a few photons through. He couldn’t help but recoil from the pain.

“Can we turn the lights down?” Jim asked. 

The lights were called down. 

“Try again, Bones.” 

The light was marginally more tolerable on the second try. Two happy blue ones were waiting for him when he managed to raise his eyelids to half mast. 

“Jim,” came out jumbled.

“Right here.” 

“Can you open your eyes more?” M’Benga all but pushed Jim out of the way. 

McCoy huffed when Jim disappeared. 

“I have a few questions and then he’ll come back. Is that okay?”

“Yeah,” he tried to bring his hand up to rub his eyes but was stopped by the pull of an IV line.

“Can you tell me your name?” 

McCoy wanted to roll his eyes, he would do the same if he weren’t the patient but it was still irritating.

“Leonard Horatio McCoy.”

“Do you know where you are?” 

“Sickbay.” 

“Do you know the stardate?” 

He had no clue how long he’d been out, “No.” 

“Okay, no worries on that one. Do you have a headache? Any numbness or tingling anywhere? Any pain? Blurred vision? Double vision?” 

“Whoa, slow down, Geoff.”

“Sorry, sorry.” 

“My head feels like it’s about to split itself open.”

“Anywhere else?” 

“No,” McCoy was getting tired. 

“Almost done. Can I check your eyes?” 

“Don’t come within a meter of me with a penlight. I’m all here,” McCoy brought his hands from under the blanket and wiggled his fingers.

“Surely that’s enough?” Jim’s voice carried from behind him. 

M’Benga looked like he wasn’t going to yield but then nodded, “Yeah, we’ll keep a watch on him though. Let me go get something for his headache. You have until I come back.” 

“Thanks.” 

“Jim?” McCoy strained to see over his shoulder.

“Right here, Bones. Do you want off your side?”

McCoy thought about it, “‘m good here.” 

There was a slight breeze as Jim came around into his eyesight. 

“You okay?” McCoy eyed the imposing figure. 

“I am now.” 

McCoy saw disheveled hair and bags under Jim’s bright eyes. Even though he looked tired, it was a rewarding contrast to the version of Jim his brain had subjected him to. 

“How much do you remember?” Jim asked hesitantly.

“All of it.” 

“Christ, Bones. I’m so sorry. No one saw you get taken. We looked up one minute and you were just gone. M’Benga had a hell of a time getting that thing off your head…” 

McCoy looked up at Jim who struggled to get the words out of his mouth. He freed a hand from the blanket and grabbed one of Jim’s that had been resting on the edge of the biobed.

Jim chuckled, “I’m terrible at this.” 

“You’re fine. Where’s Spock?” 

“I, uh, sent him away after the meld broke. He needed to meditate. Neither one of us were quite prepared for what we found inside your head.”

“Serves you right, you brat.” 

“Okay, Leonard. I have thirty of torpahine with your name on it,” M’Benga held up a loaded syringe as he entered. 

Jim moved to the side long enough for the doctor to inject the drug into an IV port. 

“See that he rests, Captain.”

Jim nodded and turned back to McCoy. 

“Oh that’s good stuff,” McCoy relaxed into the thin mattress. 

Jim pulled up a chair and sat down to be eye level with McCoy’s dulling hazel ones, “Why didn’t you tell me you were afraid of... _that_ happening?” 

McCoy’s fuzzy thought was that kid really needed to work on his timing. 

“Didn’t expect it to blow up in my face like that.” 

“Bones, you should’ve told me you were afraid I would—“ 

“I’m afraid of a lot of things where you are concerned.”

Jim took the doctor’s hand and squeezed, “I know. Just remember it goes both ways.”

The pull of the pain medicine was catching up to him and he knew there wasn’t much time left so McCoy nodded. 

“Isn’t ‘we’ll talk later’ what you always say to me in this situation?” 

“Brat,” McCoy mumbled with his own words used against him. 

“Yeah, I’ll call it even since you threw up all over my boots.” 

“Shouldn’t have been in the way…” McCoy drifted off. 

### 

“Captain?” Chapel couldn’t contain her surprise to see Jim in sickbay on his own two feet willingly. 

“It’s not business,” Jim quickly added with his hands up before anything sharp was aimed at him. “Did Bones have a good day back?” he leaned on the counter. 

Chapel scanned to make sure her boss wasn’t around, “So-so, fairly quiet here. A few physicals but he’s been in the lab most of the day.” 

“Thanks, I’ll go collect him now.” 

It only took a few of his long strides to reach the alcove that held sickbay’s small research lab. Jim leaned against the open door frame at the CMO who had his face buried in the eyepieces of a microscope. The doctor was deep in concentration with his shirt sleeves pushed up with one hand on the controls and one hand holding a stylus over a data pad. Jim looked at the wriggling cells on the display screen.

“Hey, Bones.” 

The doctor nearly jumped out of his skin, “Jesus H Christ, Jim.” 

Jim chuckled to himself and patted the man’s back on his way to plop down onto an empty stool. 

“Give me a damn heart attack why don’t ya?” McCoy grumbled.

“Whatever, Bones,” Jim spun around on the stool. 

“Are you here for a reason or just to irritate me?” 

“It’s quittin’ time,” Jim made a poor imitation of the doctor. 

“So it’s to irritate me then?” 

“Boooones. C’mon, it’s dinnertime. I came to grab you on my way to the mess hall.” 

McCoy turned back to his microscope, “I think I’m gonna just get something and bring it back.” 

“And what’s so important that you can’t take a break from?” Jim had no idea what the cells on the screen were. 

“Just makin’ sure.” 

“Pretend I don’t know what all those little squirmy things are...” 

Jim was secretly proud that he got the man to roll his eyes. 

“They’re yours.” 

“My what?” 

“Stem cells from your last marrow aspiration.” 

Jim’s teasing mood soured and his spine went rigid, “You’re not getting another one for years.” 

“I know, I know. Cool your jets. I don’t need more.” 

“Then why are you looking at them?” 

The doctor was unusually tight lipped. 

“Bones?” 

“Just makin’ sure I didn’t miss anything.”

“And did you?” 

“Not that I can find…”

“Bones, it’s been years…” 

“I know. I know it’s all in my own head, but it just felt so damn real.” 

“Bones, what they did to you was cruel, but you don’t have to keep at it yourself.” 

“Easier said than done,” the doctor grumbled under his breath. 

“I heard that.” 

McCoy just waved off the comment. 

“What can I do to help you, Bones?” 

“I don’t know, Jim. I wish I had the answer,” McCoy looked at Jim’s bright blue eyes and the vibrant life in them. 

Jim’s face lit up with an idea and McCoy knew immediately he wasn’t going to like it. 

“What the hell is that look for?” 

Jim poked his head out of the lab door for quick surveillance before shutting the door and locking it with one of his privacy codes. 

“Jim?” 

“What?” blue eyes twinkled as he pulled his shirts over his head. 

“And just what the hell are you doing?” McCoy was unusually unimpressed by a half naked Jim in front of him. 

Jim smirked and grabbed a tricorder from the bench and thrust it into McCoy’s hands, “Here, scan me, poke me, or whatever it takes to prove to you that I’m ‘hale and hearty’ or whatever it is you people say.” 

“You people?” McCoy’s eyebrow rose and tossed the tricorder to the bench top. 

“Here then,” Jim grabbed one of McCoy’s hands and brought it up to rest on his lean chest. 

The flesh felt solid and reassuring. 

Jim took a few exaggerated deep breaths, “See? Everything’s working the way it’s supposed to be.”

McCoy nodded but didn’t remove his hand. The feel of a warm and breathing Jim under his fingertips gave him a sense of being grounded. He slid his hand further up towards the arteries in Jim’s neck. 

“Feel that?” Jim’s voice vibrated under the fingers that pressed inwards to feel the thumping of a pulse.

Jim took hold of McCoy’s elbow and pulled him in so that they were chest to chest. McCoy knew exactly what he needed and couldn’t get his shirts off fast enough. The skin-to-skin contact was a balm to his anxiety. Jim smiled and grabbed the back of his head and brought their lips together.

McCoy relished at the salty warmth of Jim’s lips and he couldn’t help but groan. Before Jim could get his hands to McCoy’s pants he felt his own button and zipper being undone. 

“Uh, Bones?” 

“Shut up, Jim,” McCoy breathed with a sense of need and control he didn’t usually display. 

Jim shut up and let the man kiss him like he was never going to see him again. The kissing intensified so much that they had to break away and come up for air.

“You okay?” Jim asked. 

“Just needed some air, darlin’,” McCoy dove back in. 

McCoy dipped his hands down the back of Jim’s shorts and ran his fingers over the smooth and unmarred skin. There was no evidence of the torture his brain had made him believe was there. He shimmed the captain’s pants off his hips. 

Jim shivered at the shock of cold air, “Uh, not that I’m complaining, but this wasn’t exactly what I had in mind for you…” 

McCoy silenced any further comments by taking Jim’s now hard length into his warm hands. A feather light touch over the tip sent a fury of electrical signals up his spine. 

“Easy there,” Jim had to move the doctor’s hand away. “It’s been a while if you want this to last…”

McCoy nodded and broke the seal from Jim’s lips. His mind could remember vividly the exact location of each and every angry wound his mind had placed on Jim’s body. He trailed his lips to each site and forced his brain to override the images of torture with new images of pleasure. McCoy made his way down to Jim’s hips and the man had to lean against the bench for support.

“My grand plan was to do this to you…” Jim’s voice hitched when the doctor’s mouth found the spot above his femoral artery in the fold of his groin.

Jim knew he was done for when McCoy’s hands grabbed his hips and swallowed him whole, “Fuck.” He had to grab onto McCoy’s shoulders for leverage. 

McCoy nearly winced from Jim’s fingernails as they dug deep into his shoulders as his tongue worked itself up and down Jim. He flicked his tongue on the underside and the body under him galvanized. 

“Bones,” Jim’s voice was husky and desperate. 

McCoy used his teeth to skim the organ lightly and sent Jim over the edge. He had to suck deeply to keep up as Jim pulsated. 

“Well that was one way…” Jim heaved as his brain struggled to reorient himself. 

McCoy forced his brain to override the images with Jim’s smooth and perfect skin as he stood. 

“Bones?” Jim watched the doctor take in his body. 

“I’m all right, darlin’,” McCoy leaned into Jim and pulled him close to bask in his vitality.

Ordinarily it was McCoy’s turn but he seemed content just to hold onto Jim as his body came down from its endorphin rush. McCoy found the feel of Jim’s solid warmth reassuring and it soothed his worries away. The captain didn’t let go until the doctor made the first move to break apart.

“Wanna grab something to take back to our quarters?” 

McCoy nodded and reached down to pick up their discarded clothing. Jim pulled up his pants and threw on his shirts. Both men used reflective surfaces around the lab to hastily restyle their hair. They nodded at each other approvingly and Jim released the lock on the door. 

If Chapel saw her boss coming out from behind a locked door looking content and her captain looking flushed, she kept it to herself, “Night, Boss. Night, Captain.” 

“Night, Chris,” McCoy strode purposefully through the main bay, eager to leave. 

“Evening, Miss Chapel,” Jim nodded and rushed after McCoy’s fleeting form.


End file.
